that, April, it's not that…' 'As hard as you can!… A real howl, Shirley.'
The Austrian police are searching for Diaz even under the Minister of Interior's carpet,' said Wood. 'I don't think there's any need to invest more men or money in a job they can do for us. The fact that the dogs bring us our prey doesn't make them the hunters, Paul.' Two…'
'OK, let's do it your way, April. All I want is…' 'Three!'
'AaaaaaaaaAAAAAHHHH…!'
It was strangely fascinating to see a face shouting upside down: at the top, beneath the tiny pyramid of a forehead, a huge blind eye with a pink tentacle; at the bottom, two slits sunk into furrows. Except for the Trolley, everyone raised their hands to their ears.
'Shit, Willy!' Benoit shouted. 'Can't you put a gag on that idiot? It's impossible to talk!'
Willy De Baas moved away from the microphone and turned down the loudspeakers.
I'm sorry, Paul. It's Shirley Carloni. In April she came apart and we had to operate, do you remember? But she's still not right.'
Bosch remembered that the expression 'came apart' had become popular among the Conservation staff for 'Flowers'. It described the worst problem the works of art faced: damage to their spines.
'Pull her out for a week, suspend the flexibility drugs, give her more painkillers and call the surgeons,' said Benoit. 'That's exactly what I had in mind.'
'Well do it then, and keep the volume of your wonderful speaker down, would you?… What was I saying? April, I have no wish to supervise your work, far from it. You know how much we all trust you. But this problem is… let's just say… a bit special. This bastard has destroyed not merely an adolescent, but part of the world's heritage.'
'I'll take the responsibility, Paul,' said Miss Wood with a smile.
'You'll take the responsibility, fine. I do as well, and so does everyone else in this artistic enterprise, April. That's what we can tell the insurance companies, if you like: 'We take the responsibility.' We can also say the same to our investors and private clients: 'Don't worry, we take the responsibility.' Then we organise a dinner in a salon with ten Rayback nudes in it, and fifty wonderful ornaments as tables, vases and chairs a la Stein, we leave them all open-mouthed in astonishment, and then ask them for more money. But they will reply, quite correctly: 'You put on a wonderful display, but if a guard from your own security team can destroy such an expensive work of art and get away with it, who on earth will want to insure any of the works in future? And who will pay to have them?'
As he spoke, Benoit waved the empty cup in the air. The Trolley had been waiting for him to replace it on her table, but Benoit had been too carried away to notice. The ornament did not say or do anything beyond crouching there attentively, trying to keep her balance. As she drew breath, her stomach made the teapot tremble. As he observed her antics, Bosch could scarcely stop himself laughing.
'This business is built on beauty,' Benoit was saying. 'But beauty is nothing without power. Just imagine if all the Egyptian slaves had died, and the pharoah had been forced to carry all those blocks of stone himself…' 'He'd come apart,' Bosch quipped.
'So art is power,' Benoit declared. 'A wall has been breached in our fortress, April, and it's up to you to plug the hole.'
He finally appeared to realise he was still holding the cup, and quickly moved to replace it on the Trolley, who stood up nimbly.
At that moment, as if a black cloud had passed over the room, it turned a darker shade of purple.
'I'd like to know what's happening to Annek,' a voice with a Haarlem accent said.
They all turned towards the screens, though they knew it was Sally before they saw her. She was leaning against one of the bars in the gym for the canvases, and the camera was filming her to halfway down her thighs. She was wearing a T-shirt and shorts. The shorts cut into her groin. She had removed the paint with solution but even so her ebony skin had dark purple highlights. The yellow of her neck label stood out between her breasts.
‘I don't believe the story about flu… the only reason for withdrawing a work from this fucking collection is if they come apart, and if Papa Willy can hear me, let him deny it…'
Willy de Baas had switched off the microphones, and was whispering hurriedly to Benoit.
'We told the works that Annek has the flu, Paul.' 'Fuck,' growled Benoit.
Sally smiled all the time she was talking. In fact, she looked very happy. Bosch thought she must be drugged.
'Look at my skin, Papa Willy: look at my arms and here, on my stomach… If you switch the lights off, you'll still be able to see me. My skin is like a raspberry past its sell-by date. I look at it and feel like eating plums. I've been like this since last year, and I haven't been withdrawn even once. If you don't come apart, you're on show, flu or no flu. But Annek and I will never come apart, will we?
… Our postures with our backs straight are easier than most. How lucky we are, they all say. We're the lucky ones, apparently. But I reckon it depends on how you look on it… it's true, the other works are carried out on stretchers at the end of the day… and they are jealous of us because we can walk without any back problems and we don't need any of those flexibility implants that mean you can kick yourself in the shin with the same foot, isn't that so, Papa Willy?
… But it also means we're on the outside, we aren't part of the group of those who have officially come apart… So cut the crap. What's wrong with Annek? Why have you withdrawn her?'
'Fuck,' Benoit said again.
'She could cause real trouble,' De Baas said, twisting his head towards Benoit. 'She will cause real trouble,' one of his assistants insisted.
'What's happening, Papa Willy? Why don't you reply?'
Benoit swore indignantly again, and stood up.
‘Let me deal with her, Willy. Why on earth did you tell her that nonsense about flu?' 'What else could we do?'
'Papa Willy? Are you there…?'
Benoit scurried over to De Baas, talking all the time.
This is a work of art valued at thirty million dollars, Willy. Thirty big bricks and a monthly rental I prefer not to mention…' He took the microphone from De Baas, 'And she has become indispensable: the owner will only have her. We have to tread carefully…'
Benoit's voice suddenly became mellifluous. 'Sally? It's Paul Benoit.'
'Wow!' Sally unhooked her thumbs from her shorts and stood with arms akimbo. 'Grandpa Paul in person… I'm truly honoured, Grandpa Paul… Grandpa Paul is always the one who comes to the phone when things go wrong, isn't he?…'
I'm sure she's drugged, Bosch thought. Sally was slurring her words, and her plump lips stayed open when she fell silent. Bosch thought she was one of the most beautiful pieces in the collection.
That's right,' Benoit said gently. 'That's how things work with us: they pay Willy less than me, so he spouts more nonsense. But this is pure chance – I happened to be in Vienna and wanted to come and see you all.'
'Well, make sure you don't come down to the gym, Grandpa. Some of the flowers have turned carnivorous. They say you look after those dogs of yours in Brittany better than you do us.'
‘I don't believe that for a minute. You're wicked, Sally.'
'What happened to Annek, Grandpa? Tell me the truth, just this once.'
'Annek is fine,' replied Benoit. The thing is that the Maestro has decided to withdraw her for a few weeks to work on some details.'
This was an absurd excuse, but Bosch knew that Benoit had a lot of experience in fooling the works of art.
'Work on some details…? Come off it, Grandpa! Do you think I'm an idiot? The Maestro finished her two years ago… If he withdrew her, it's because he wants to substitute her…'
'Don't get mad, Sally, that's what I've been told, and I'm usually told the truth. There isn't going to be any substitute for Deflowering for two years at least. The Maestro has taken her to Edenburg to correct a few details of her body colour, that's all. In theory, he's within his rights – Deflowering hasn't been sold yet.'
'Are you telling me the truth, Grandpa?'
'I couldn't lie to you, Sally. Doesn't Hoffmann do the same with you? Doesn't he renew the purple every now
